


Four Down, Two To Go

by ifigo



Category: Red White & Royal Blue - Casey McQuiston
Genre: Bea Has a Plan, Canon Compliant Crackfic, F/M, Getting Together of Sorts, Not Beta Read, Other, Pez Is A Lovely Human Being, Queerplatonic Relationships, qpr
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-28
Updated: 2020-11-28
Packaged: 2021-03-09 22:28:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,071
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27753835
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ifigo/pseuds/ifigo
Summary: That had been the story, ever since June and Nora announced they’d secretly gotten married last spring: first Alex and Henry got together, now the world knew about June and Nora too, so it was only logical in the minds of the tabloids that Bea and Pez had quietly gotten together at some point as well. Everybody involved found it terribly amusing.Well, Bea usually found the rumours amusing, when there wasn’t a part of her who wished this particular one would be true.-	-	-The queerplatonic Bea/Pez crackfic that not a single soul asked for
Relationships: Alex Claremont-Diaz/Henry Fox-Mountchristen-Windsor (mentioned), Beatrice Fox-Mountchristen-Windsor & Percy "Pez" Okonjo, Beatrice Fox-Mountchristen-Windsor/Percy "Pez" Okonjo, June Claremont-Diaz/Nora Holleran (mentioned)
Comments: 1
Kudos: 33





	Four Down, Two To Go

**Author's Note:**

> This fic is a thing that happened... it's kinda fun, it's loosely canon-compliant, it's crack, and my brain wouldn't let go of it. And honestly, the internet needs more casually intimate queerplatonic relationships. 
> 
> So here it is - if it's your thing, enjoy!
> 
> \- - -

**The Girls & The Gays **

**Alexander the Lesser:**  
_[screenshot of an article from The Sun, dated October 23, 2024]_  
"THE SUPER SIX, COUPLED OFF: ARE PRINCESS BEATRICE AND PEZ OKONJO NEXT?" 

**Little Idiot:**  
_Oh dear God_

**June the Great:**  
_So sorry_

**Chaos Creator:**  
_no, it’s fucking hilarious_  
_i'm not sorry at all_

\---  
  


That had been the story, ever since June and Nora announced they’d secretly gotten married last spring: first Alex and Henry got together, now the world knew about June and Nora too, so it was only logical in the minds of the tabloids that Bea and Pez had quietly gotten together at some point as well. Everybody involved found it terribly amusing. 

Well, Bea usually found the rumours amusing, when there wasn’t a part of her who wished this particular one would be true.

Since her mother’s coronation last summer, Bea had slowly been piecing together a very specific image for her life - one with less quiet and more laughter, less fake smiles and more charity, less protocol and more happiness. As the Queen's daughter, she had naturally taken up an even more prominent role in the family than ever before - especially with Henry living in Brooklyn with Alex all but a few weeks of the year - but not without instituting her own small but powerful reforms. She was focusing on the people and what she could do for them, looking at how to connect with those they were supposed to be ruling instead of distancing themselves as her grandmother had. The whole movement had taken loads of planning and a few frank words with her brother, but Bea was finally accomplishing what she’d wanted out of being a princess all along - to actually talk to real people instead of idealized samples picked by aides and to throw her weight behind creating solutions to problems that actually mattered. The Beatrice Fund for addiction recovery had been a fantastic success thus far, and she was in the process of expanding her organization to support women’s issues in low-income areas as well as education improvements in Wales and Scotland. She was doing work that had a real, tangible impact. It was a lot of effort, sure, but she hadn’t been this happy in a long, long time. She felt good. 

Bea was also trying not to think too much about how well Pez could fit into the life she was creating. 

For the moment, Pez was taking up one of the way-too-many spare bedrooms in Bea’s apartments at Kensington as he helped her workshop a new project, subsequently bringing with him all sorts of life, vivacity, and gossip. 

“They’ve really outdone themselves this time,” Pez says, clearing his throat from across the dining table, opening the paper and preparing to read, “ _Following previous rumours and the sightings of the pair out together in London earlier this week,_ ” he began, “ _Palace insiders tipped off_ The Sun _just yesterday that a romance may have sparked between our lovely Princess Beatrice and one Percy Okonjo._ And really, can we blame her for going for that hot piece of arse?”

Bea scoffs, passively-aggressively eating her buttery toast. “You made up that last part, don’t lie.” 

“Okay, okay,” he concedes, closing the paper, “Maybe I did. But it’s still true, I am a catch.” 

“Of course you are,” she says without looking up, fully sincere. 

For a long time, Bea has recognized herself as aromantic and largely indifferent to sex as more than an activity for being physically near someone - the traditional idea of a relationship like what she has known has never been very appealing in her eyes. She was interested in a partner, sure, but not necessarily romantically. She wanted a person to be with, to have someone that she knew could be counted on through thick and thin, that saw her oddities and ghosts in the cupboard but never ran, someone she could know and love, and be loved by in return. Not a romance necessarily, but still a partnership at its deepest and at its best, at least for her. 

Maybe the tabloids were getting to her; Bea was big enough to recognize that possibility. Or maybe it was something different. Pez had been a constant in her life for so long - first as the only other person she knew could be trusted to take care of Henry, then as a close friend, and now as her own personal confidant and light. She liked their dynamic. She liked him, dammit. And she wasn’t quite sure yet how she felt about that particular fact, but she knew she loved having him around all the time - that he could make her laugh but was also the best listener, that he could read a room better than anyone and knew exactly how much space to take up at any time, that he never belittled her in her dark moments and had her back every time she needed him. 

Something like what she wished to have with Pez was not exactly in her grand plans for the future, it was not a requirement in the slightest, but having him committed to being by her side would be such a welcome addition. He didn’t fit in any of her well-sorted boxes. He defies the limits, but he would make the whole equation better. And yeah, okay, maybe she loved him. But she loved easy, it was in her nature. She didn’t know quite yet if this love was meant to be something more.

Pez chooses that moment to give her a look over his cup of tea, ripping her from her racing thoughts. “You’re thinking too loudly over there.” 

Goddammit. Bea hums, crossing her ankles and returning the eye contact. “And you’re starring.” 

“Is it the papers? They’re certainly more forward this week,” Pez says, fingering the edge of the paper, flicking through absently. He glances back up, head still bowed. Flirting and he knows it. 

“You’re absolutely terrible, you know that?”

“Oh? How so?” Pez smiles, perking up and putting on a face. 

Out with it, she supposes. Either this turns into something or it doesn’t. They’re great friends - this can be brushed under the rug if necessary, something she can quietly die over until the whole affair finally ages enough to be a running joke like she knows it would. But if Bea has her way, which she usually does, it won’t come to that. It’ll be better. 

“What do you think, about the rumours?” Bea diverts, one hand coming up to brush a spare hair behind her ear, “Do you think they have any truth to them?”

“Any truth? About you and I?” He tilts his head to one side, warm eyes practically glowing with mischief, “Well, it depends, Princess.” 

That was the other thing - the nicknames, the informality, and flippancy with which he easily brushes off protocol. Any bystander would seeth. With him, she isn’t a royal, or third in line, just Bea, the woman with a beating heart and a bite she’s not afraid to use and a warm light shining through the cracks in the veneer. 

Bea indulges him, “It depends on what, exactly?”

“How much you’d like to put up with me,” Pez smiles, “I know we’ve been over this a dozen times before.” 

They _had_ talked about a hypothetical partnership at great length on numerous occasions, it was true. They both knew she wanted a companion to hold her in the dark times and love her in the light, and he wanted someone to show off and adore, who would walk beside him and catch him anytime he fell, to see him and all his technicolor glory not just as an image but as a person with true complexity, and not be intimidated but want to learn more.

Bea and Pez being _together /em > could work on paper, and, as far as they could tell without actually diving in, they had a fantastic shot in actuality. But the idea had never become more than simply that - conversation. Once the sun came up, neither of them acted on the words they’d said in the safety of the night. But now it was morning, and Pez was still here and whole and lounging at Bea’s dining table, not fleeing at the idea of being with her. _

“Given my, well,” Bea pauses, waving her hand in a vague gesture meant to encapsulate her life, her home, all dark-stained tables and expensive doors, “I think it may be you who would need the extra tolerance. You’ve seen my family.”

He chuckles lightly, almost a little boastful. “That I have. And most of them have seen me, in some variety,” Pez leans back in his chair, taking a slow sip, “Anything anybody wants to say to me has already been said behind my back a hundred times before.”

“Yes, but this would be different than all that,” she waits, searching for the right word to convey how fucked up the world can be when faced with something they’re too small-minded to consider, “It’d be harder. You saw what they did to Alex, even to Martha.” 

“Mmm,” Pez hums, considering, “You’d be worth it.” 

_Oh._ Alright. The last of Bea’s sense of control over the moment vanished.

“Are you being serious? Is this something you’re open to right now?” Bea asks, breakfast abandoned for greater pursuits, like attempting to maintain a level gaze while fiddling with the napkin in her lap. 

Her eyes track Pez as he stands and rounds the table, nearly giving Bea a heart attack, before he pulls out the chair next to her and sits on the edge, only inches away. “Can I be honest with you?” he asks, like he hasn’t been knowingly freaking her out for the past ten minutes. Bea nods. “We’ve talked about all of this - having a quasiplatonic partnership - and it makes sense. We’re damn near each other’s closest friend, and I think we both know we’re looking for similar things for a long-term arrangement. And, frankly, I like you a stupid amount,” he dusts his hands and takes a breath, “So, Bea, if you want to, I’d like few things more than to see what we could be together.”

“I-” she composes herself, reaching between them to grab his hand, thinking about him and her and their lives and their life _together_ and how this might, maybe, just possibly, work out for the better, “I would love that, honestly. I want to try us.”

Pez laughs then, a deep hearty laugh, and Bea can’t hold herself together any longer, breaking into a bright grin of her own. “We’re doing this then?” he asks, leaning forward and holding her hand with both of his. 

“Yeah! Yeah, let’s do this,” Bea laughs. 

“Alright. Let’s do this,” Pez is suddenly lighter, and he can’t seem to stop smiling as he rambles, “Even if this doesn’t work out forever, we can be happy for a while, I think. And we’ll piss off the establishment. Plus, it will get everyone and their mother off your back about getting married.” 

“Don’t be self-sabotaging us, Okonjo, I’m invested now,” Bea jokes, “And here I was under the impression you were asking me out, not asking to marry me.”

“Maybe a little bit of both," he mutters. When their eyes meet again, his gaze is open and clear.

That signature lopsided grin spreads out on Bea’s face. “Hey.”

“Hey?” Pez mimics. 

“How would you feel if I kissed you?”

“Really? I wish you would.”

\---

**The Girls & The Gays **

**Little Idiot:**  
_[screenshot of an article from the Daily Mail, dated November 1, 2024]_  
"PRINCESS BEATRICE DEBUTS HER NEW BEAU - AND YOU'LL NEVER GUESS WHO IT IS"  
_Hey, what the actual hell?_  
_I'm gone for a month and my sister and my best friend get together without telling me??_

**Alexander the Lesser:**  
_Now you know how I feel_  
_Congrats tho, really_

**Me:**  
_Henry, you're a dumbass_  
_Thank you_

**Pez:**  
_Third rumour in a month, and this time it's actually true_  
_Doesn't somebody owe me something?_

**June the Great:**  
_That’s actually incredible, I'm happy for you!!_  
_Pretty sure I do owe you something_

**Chaos Creator:**  
_this is fucking tea, oh my god, congrats_

**Alexander the Lesser:**  
_Henry's been screaming for a solid 10 minutes_

**Me:**  
_As he should be_  
_You're all terrible, I love you_  
_Visit soon - we’ve got dates to plan and bigots to piss off_


End file.
